


Sinful

by victorianvirgil



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: I really am, M/M, SO, Sanders Sides - Freeform, and my writing goes down, and patton isn't there for long but tbh what he's there for is good, because its no nut november, birthday boy!logan, but the reason I didn't write the um, deceit and remy and thomas are mentioned so yeah, engaged!roman, engaged!virgil, happy late birthday logan!!!1, i'm so sorry buddy, next month be ready for mad sex, you deserve better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 12:09:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16534289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorianvirgil/pseuds/victorianvirgil
Summary: Logan is working himself to death, and his work is driving away all those he loves. His girlfriend left but that hardly matters, nothing matters but decreasing the size of the infinite amount of paperwork looming over him.Roman and Virgil decide to stop by to drop off their presents and spend a little time with their friend who really, really just needs a break and to relieve some stress.





	Sinful

Logan had completely forgotten his birthday. Swamped with his work, nose buried in the endless piles of paperwork scattered across his desk, it was hardly a surprise.

Two days before, his lover had finally snapped. Months upon months of Logan ignoring her, working late shifts, and when he was home, spending little time with her accumulated overtime was to blame.

“We haven’t had sex in weeks!” she screamed before closing the door to the office, gathering some necessities, and walking out the front door with a thoughtful slam rippling through her apartment.

Logan’s pen remained in his hand, perfect script unphased by the hysterical girl tampering the atmosphere.

She was good though, that girl. Made him eat. Sleep from time to time. But not anymore. Logan was going on his fifty-somethingth hour awake, and even his mind - superior to most - was unable to calculate how long it had been since his last blink.

Hours melted and molded together, the scratching of his pen perpetual and the ticking of his clock continuous and the-

The doorbell rang. Her, obviously.

It was only then did Logan pause, weighing his options while biting the inside of his cheek. He knew he hadn’t loved her, not even the idea of her or the fact that she loved him. It was awkward, her figure so strange in his arms as they slept and her moans ringing so, so strangely in his ears. Too high, too fem-

The doorbell rang again, three quick presses. Not her signature, no. And she wouldn’t have rung the bell anyway - something his tired mind had only just thought of - when she had a key and every right to her stuff. She knew better than to think he would leave his work and get the door. She knew him better.

And it was the only reason Logan bothered to get up, walking through his home to answer the door for whoever the hell was now pressing their finger against the bell without release.

His ears were bleeding by the time he finally unbolted and creaked the door open, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he studied the figures before him.

“Happy birthday, Einstein,” Roman exclaimed, offering about five strings tethered to balloons and three small boxes not-so-cleverly wrapped in emerald green paper.  _ For your eyes _ , Logan could practically hear Roman say, even if he could hardly see over the gifts.

“It’s most certainly not his birthday, it isn’t even spring so I don’t understand how you could possibly be as dense as to-”

“It’s your birthday, genius,” Virgil interrupted, a genuine grin settled across his lips that surprised Logan to see. Virgil’s smiles were far and few between, something he reserved for the lover standing by his side. And yet the darkness of his eyes dominated the brightness of his smile, making it appear to waver. A mask, of sorts, to hide what exactly the two lovers had been doing just before walking to his apartment. Presumably in their car. Logan would have shuttered had he not had a talent of keeping his composure.

Roman didn’t bother waiting for his friend’s response upon seeing him staring at Virgil in deep thought, sidestepping Logan - fingers accidentally brushing his hip and sending a shiver up Logan’s spine - at the door and walking into the other’s apartment.

“We brought wine for the Mrs.,” he proclaimed, eyeing the kitchen that looked just a little more bleak than it had a few weeks before on their last visit - a party that Logan’s now ex-girlfriend had hosted. He turned, eyeing the others that followed as he placed the bottle on the simplistic, round, wooden table.

“She left.”

A pause. Blinking from two different pairs of brown eyes.

“What?” Virgil asked.

Logan shrugged, closing the front door behind him and bolting it once more. “It was a fleeting thing anyway. You should have known that it wouldn’t last.”

“You’ve lived together for three years, she’s been asking me when you planned to propose.”

Logan didn’t need to glance towards their hands, to the golden bands gleaming in the kitchen light, to know that it was what the universe momentarily orbited around. Their hands and their rings and their promises to hold each other in their arms forever.

“Fleeting thing,” he repeated, hands folding behind his back as he eyed his guests. They wouldn’t be here for long, not when Logan had so much work to do and his patience regarding being a reasonable host was wearing thin.

“Of course,” Virgil nodded as Roman said, “More wine for me then.” To make Logan feel more at ease with the void they believed was left in his chest. In his home.

They flattered her in thinking she had affected him in any way.

Roman rummaged through the drawers to find a cork screw, Virgil kicking out a chair and motioning for Logan to sit down with him.

Logan did so, settling in the chair and taking the glass that Roman poured and placed in front of him.

“Shouldn’t I be serving?” Logan asked, his monotonous voice masking whatever thoughts were running through his mind.

And Roman laughed, his lips curling back into a gorgeous smile as he sat back in the free chair. “You? Serving?”

He scoffed. “I serve fine, thank you.”

“The only thing you serve is looks, baby.”

“He makes a point,” Roman pointed to his lover, sharing a look with him and biting the tip of his tongue playfully. A look that implied something far from innocent.

Virgil’s swallow didn’t go unnoticed by either of the others.

An innuendo could surely be found somewhere in their conversation, something that flew over Logan’s head, but he didn’t care enough to bother asking. And honestly, he was scared to know whatever the hell those freaks were talking about. It was thanks to God himself that those kinky fucks ended up together and not corrupting any other poor, innocent soul.

“Thank you for the balloons and presents. I cherish them as I cherish you but you can’t stay. I have to work-” Logan choked on his breath, the gasp escaping from his lips nothing short of absolutely sinful from the sudden pressure to his crotch. A hand, not his own - proven by a quick glance to see them both on the table.

He looked up, only just realizing that he had been staring off into space to see Virgil eyeing him with those dark, dark eyes from behind his wine glass. One hand on the glass, the other on Roman’s knee. And so he glanced down, following the tanned hand up to a forearm with many defined veins to a muscular bicep to one of his handsome best friends. One of his  _ engaged  _ handsome best friends.

“One month, fifteen days, and three hours until our wedding day,” Roman said, the relevance of that information only adding to the three-hundred million, four-hundred sixty-eight thousand reasons as to why Logan shoved the other’s hand away, ignoring the blush threatening to settle onto his cheeks. His hypersensitive skin was far too alert for its own good. “One month, fifteen days, and three hours until we will officially be spending the rest of our lives together. Exclusively together.”

His voice, an octave lower than it had been moments before was causing Logan’s mind to spiral and for his body to tense up. Anticipation, need. No, he had to stop.  _ Engaged engaged engaged. _

“Are you not exclusive?” Logan asked with a raised brow to hide everything. Emotions, arousal.  _ Engaged. _

Virgil’s fingertips circled around Roman’s kneecap, Logan painfully aware of how it trailed up the inner thigh and how Roman spread his legs for him. Opened himself greedily. Logan couldn’t look away as he said, “No, we are. But since our relationship started . . . we have talked about exceptions.”

Roman gently removed Virgil’s hand and stood up, towering over Logan only when he rose to full height on two feet. The devious grin etched across his lips reached his eyes as he pulled Logan’s chair out from under the table, the drag against the hardwood floor like a whisper of sweet nothings from Lucifer himself, and slid into his lap. Removed the glasses from his nose, allowing his world to blur.

He was straddling his waist, settled in his lap looking like he was exactly where he wanted him as he threw an arm over Logan’s shoulder and moved his other hand to trace his defined jawline. Logan, paralyzed, awaited the explanation to come.

But there was none, the pair believing it  obvious to him as Roman leaned in to give Logan the most sinful kiss he had ever received.

Her name slipped his tongue as Logan’s fell from Roman’s, surprised to find his arm secure itself around the other’s waist without a second thought. Their bodies were close and Logan was finding it hard to breathe, his too small kitchen not big enough for the three of them. Three.

He turned ever so slightly to glance Virgil’s way, expecting, despite the other’s consent and encouragement, to see fury in his dark eyes. But there was nothing of the sorts, nothing. Nothing but pleasure. Bliss, even.

Roman was kissing the side of Logan’s mouth hungrily, eyes locked onto Virgil’s as Logan’s eyes finally closed and he gave in to the ocean of pleasure. Submerging himself beneath the blissful waves and the warmth of the other’s embrace. He leaned into the kiss, groaning as Roman’s mouth trailed down his neck to where memories of love bites from a lover had once been years ago, a damn lifetime. He paused upon Logan’s breath truly hitching, marking him without care as another pair of lips found Logan’s shoulder.

And when Logan opened his eyes and turned just so, Virgil’s lips were on him like a midsummer storm.

Roman was grinding down on his crotch as Virgil worked to get Logan’s shirt off when he finally managed to break away. His heart was hammering in his chest and his breaths were inconsistent and unreliable. His lips, already swollen, parted as he tried to pull himself together. Weave his soul and conscious back into a tightly threaded cloak that protected him from the devil’s that walked the world. The devils with pretty brown eyes and dirty smiles and wedding rings.

“I can’t . . .” he shook his head, running his fingers through his hair and quickly grabbing his glasses from the table with a shaking hand. He slid them back onto his nose, the scene before him sharpening and clearing. Virgil loomed over the chair, lips red and sinful, so sinful as he stared greedily up at Logan. And Roman, God above, was leaning back in the chair with his entire body exposed and ripe for the plucking. His neck, chest, legs . . . all willing and begging to be touched. Logan took his glasses off, closing them in his fist and forbidding himself from putting them back on as long as the pair were in his house.

Because he knew he would never be able to resist that sight, not again.

“We want you to,” Roman mumbled, standing up and prowling the two steps he needed to reach Logan. He wrapped his lean fingers around Logan’s wrist and raised his hand, opening his palm and sliding the glasses back on. “Can’t you see that.”

Logan was silent, knowing that he would only be able to stutter out a response.

“Call it an early wedding gift to us,” Virgil chimed in, tucking the chair back into the table before joining them. He was the smallest, standing an inch or two shorter than Roman (who himself was two inches shorter than Logan), but the confidence he had when brushing his hand against the small of Roman’s back made Logan weak in the knees. “And our birthday gift for you.”

“You gave me three already,” he replied, his voice shaky. It was too much, it was too much to comprehend.

“Pat, Rem, and Thomas. And then there’s a card from D.”

He paused at Roman’s words, the most surprising of the night. “D got me a card?”

“We bought it for him and then during visiting hours had him sign it.”

“Visiting hours? For what?”

“Prison. You know that.”

He did, he just didn’t want to think about the matter at hand.

“Look,” Virgil sighed, hand directing Roman to take a step back. Logan released a breath, purple face returning to its natural pale shade. “If this is something you don’t want to do, we won’t pressure you into it.”

His obvious, obvious erection said otherwise.

Roman nodded, “We just thought . . . god, Lo . . . I just think you’re so fucking sexy-”

The rest of that sentence was tuned out, Logan unable to even think. He knew that it was wrong, that he should stop his friends because things like this ruined friendships. Ruined lives. But the way they were looking at him . . .

To hell with it.

Logan held up a hand and Roman went silent, the thrum of the apartment heater the only audible breathing as Logan slowly lifted a hand up to remove his shirt. It smoothly slid off, descending to the ground wordlessly and crumbling into a pile by his feet. Exposing his lean upper body, the unmarked territories only women had ever ogled at.

And this was certainly much more than that.

Two words and they were on him like the night.

“I’m in.”

-

Logan hadn’t expected to wake up, sleep an old friend that he had grown distant with over the years. He didn’t know the world he woke up to either, long seconds passing before his body responded to his movements and he was able to roll onto his back.

He flinched, back torn up as if he had been whipped by the Devil and he knew that the slight stinging on his neck was from bruises peppering his throat. And the heat to his side, one of two bodies he had spent the night with less than an arm’s reach away.

His eyes opened, experiencing his fuzzy world solely through his inadequate vision until he grabbed his glasses and put them on. He slowly lifted himself onto an elbow, studying the boy sleeping by his side.

He was on his shoulder, back to Logan, and in his arms lay another with his arms around his waist. Two pieces of a puzzle, two pieces of a soul.

Two children done playing with their toy.

Logan looked away quickly, the moment shared between those two private, and he would deserve to rot in the coldest, darkest level of hell if he intruded on their moment or woke them. So silently, a prey limping away, he slipped into the kitchen with a pair of boxers and a shirt in hand. The kitchen where he was able to find solace in the lack of breathing, in being the only living thing in a numerous amount of feet. And entire room.

He looked around, eyeing the couch with the pillows and blankets in disarray, the wall he had pressed Roman against as Virgil fell to his knees behind him. The simplistic, round, wooden table where Virgil had sat, a sinful, sinful look in his eyes as Logan had taken him in his mouth and Roman had kissed him like his life depended on it. Like a future spouse should.

Logan gritted his teeth as he looked towards the presents, to where the balloons had fallen to the floor from helium loss. He glanced at the presents, placing them in the corner of the room. He popped the balloons and shoved them into the trash, making himself a cup of black coffee. He tried to keep his morning routine consistent, even if it followed screwing his best friends’ brains out.

The timer went off and Logan found himself shaken from his thoughts - and glad for it -, glancing away from the vacant wall he had been staring at in favor of pouring himself coffee and taking it into his office. He locked the door, out of habit, and hoped that his friends would understand. Mistakes happen, of course they do. It wasn’t their fault that they felt bad and that their happiness was too much for him to handle at times. That the jealousy struck too deep in his soul, poisoning him and allowing for lust to take control.

A sex toy, one, apparently, with a pretty nice cock if Roman’s claim rung true.

A sex toy. Ironic that her last words to him had been regarding sex.

Ironic.

-

Hours passed, Logan only aware of the lapse of time due to his coffee having been long-since finished and the fact that he had heard rustling in the hallway, until he heard the doorbell ring again.

The pen froze mid-word, lifting his pen and allowing for the perfect cursive to break in order to gather his thoughts.  _ Her, it must be. _

The guilt was seeping in, more than it had that morning when he had woken up. He didn’t want to leave his castle; it had been a mistake less than twelve hours before, so what was to say it wouldn’t be a mistake again?

But the next ring, longer than the first followed by two short rings, had Logan jumping out of his seat and racing through his home, lacking any composure he had ever had. Not her, not either him or him either but-

“Happy belated birthday, Lo,” a smile greeted him, a card in the small hand of the sunshine incarnate standing before him.

“Thank you, Patton.”

Patton sighed, leaning in and wrapping his arms around the other’s neck. Logan stiffened, thoughts of different hands flashing through his mind but he shoved all of those thoughts aside. The embrace was pure, shared between two friends and nothing more. Just as it should.

“It is no excuse for me to show up today, I know. No phone call, not even a text! And I didn’t forget, don’t you  _ ever _ think I’d forget, but I thought that-”

“She’s gone,” Logan interrupted, pulling back and stepping aside. “Come on in.”

“She’s-” Patton gaped, unable to even finish the sentence as he stared up at his friend.

“I know just . . . it wasn’t working out.”

Patton nodded, staring into the messy apartment for a moment. Logan almost shut the door as to not expose himself - Patton was far too intuitive for his own good - when Patton offered the card. “For you. I had Virge and Ro bring my gift over because I was stuck at work for the entirety of yesterday. Did you get it?”

Logan nodded. “I loved it, thank you.”

He would be sure to keep Patton out of the bedroom for many reasons.

Patton grinned in reply, smiling even more brightly when Logan took the card. He then took a step forward, crossing the threshold and walked into the small kitchen. And Logan followed, unable to help the darkening of his eyes from the sight of the beacon of light that had just entered and took the universe by storm. It’s true center.

He closed the front door behind him. And bolted it.

**Author's Note:**

> whoa, a virgin lesbian finding a way to NOT write a m/m/m threesome???? yeah, sorry mac but not today.
> 
> so sorry this is highkey trash but I've had this idea for a while (as a joke, that's how I seem to get most of my ideas honestly) that I would post for lo's birthday but I,,,I forgot, sue me.
> 
> so happy belated birthday logan! you deserve better than what I gave you but that's fine, it's really fine shh.
> 
> now regarding our account, we have been taking a bit of a break due to stress from school. I wasn't in a good place and I needed some time to get my grades up but now we should be all set! updates will come more regularly (on both this account and our tumblr). also, expect a HELLA fic from mac. she hasn't let me read it yet but I gave her the idea a while back and she's been working for deadass months to make it perfect.
> 
> anyway, I hope you all enjoyed!  
> \- ronnie


End file.
